


Worry

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Neverwhere - Neil Gaiman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-22
Updated: 2004-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:32:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1634120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Door is gone.  Richard is worried.  The marquis is sarcastic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worry

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Eurydice

 

 

 

 

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Richard stopped pounding his fingers against the table and leaned back into his folding chair. With effort, he stilled and the tiny kitchen was heavy with silence. Richard attempted serenity, trying to clear his mind of all worldly concerns. Trying to forget that she had left, and that had been hours ago, and he didn't know where she had gone and what if she was missing and had gotten into trouble and what was he supposed to do about it.

With a groan of frustration Richard pushed his chair away from the table and got to his feet. It wouldn't do any good to fret about it. It, of course, being that Door could very well be dead in a gutter somewhere and Richard had no way of knowing or even where he would start to looking for her and that-

Richard checked himself with a stern reprimand. He was worrying too much. Door would be fine. Even if she had been gone much later than she should have been. And if she had looked worried as she left with just an distracted wave as she walked out without a word. It was probably nothing. Probably.

Richard sighed and glanced around the house that he and Door shared looking for something to keep himself from brooding over her. He could weed the peppers and cucumbers they had outside, but the little garden had always made him nervous. The fact that vegetables flourished despite a distinct lack of sunlight still made him uneasy. He could organize the books and papers he and Door had retrieved from her father's study last week. . .

The sound of footsteps interrupted his musings. A relieved smile was on his face as he glanced towards the doorway, and was met by a matching flash of white teeth from the marquis de Carabas. Richard glared at the man as he swept into the kitchen as though he had lived there his entire life. "What are you doing back so soon? Shouldn't you be out and about committing petty larceny and underhanded deals?" He asked as he crossed his arms across his chest. It wasn't that Richard didn't like the marquis, he did. He liked the marquis the same way he'd liked playing rugby while in college; it was fun and exciting but Richard always ended up bleeding and battered at the end.

The marquis raised an eyebrow and grinned at the other man. "You know, Richard, if you want to help me in my endeavors, don't beat around the bush. Just ask." His grin sharpened as he looked over at Richard. "I'll even let you be my minion if you ask nicely. Sidekick if you're really lucky."

"Show me the spandex uniform with matching utility belt and maybe I'll consider it." Richard shot back. He wanted to take the man by the collar and shake him until the marquis told Richard what he had said to Door right before she took off that morning and whether he knew where she was. But that wasn't how the marquis worked, something Richard had learned through a painful trial and error period that had left him tied to the tracks of the Underground at one point. To get any sort of knowledge out of him at all you had to wait until he was ready to tell you and respond to any nonsense along the way with kind.

"Excellent. I'll be the dashing romantic hero that is steeped with irrestible mystery. My alter ego will be equally alluring, though in a more debonair way." The marquis said, lifting his chin and looking very much the part of the dark vigilante superehero. "You can be my sidekick that wears brightly coloured spandex and an ugly cape. Your alterego will be as my manservant and chauffeur."

Richard looked at him for a long moment wondering, not for the first time, what the marquis was behind his top hat and swashbuckling notions. He didn't know anything about the man currently lounging (because the marquis didn't sit. He lounged, reclined, sprawled, but never merely sat) at his kitchen table. Not even a first name. But he had seen enough to know, or at least to assume, that he was a friend. Nearly being killed by a mad angel brought people together.

"I would have thought that I could at least graduate from manservant to butler by now." Richard said with the hint of a smile at his lips. The worry that had settled on him through the day as Door had consistently failed to return had lightened his hold on him minutely. Part of his brain was still shouting in capital letters about Danger!; Worry!; and Doom! but it was easier not to think that she was in trouble when the maquis was discussing running about in tights.

"Well, that all depends on how good you are at keeping the silver candlesticks polished." The marquis replied wryly. Silence fell as his fingers idly traced the grain of the wood. After a few moments he said. "I take that Door hasn't gotten back yet?"

"No." Richard said shortly as the full force of his worry flooded back all at once like blood rushing to his head. There seemed to be almost the tiniest suggestion of anxiety in the other man's dark eyes when he mentioned Door. And if he was showing any signs of worry Richard knew it was appropriate for any sane person to be jumping into rivers of anxiety and drowning themselves in it. "What did you tell her this morning? Where did she go?"

The marquis ignored the question for a long time and seemed completely focused on what had to be very fascinating wood patterns. Richard waited as patiently as he could, though he couldn't suppress the nervous tapping of his foot as he watched the man intensely. After a long time the marquis said in an very casual voice. "Well, I had just picked up an interesting tidbit of information that I thought she might like to hear. Word in the rumour mill was that the Shepherds and Door's sister Ingress were being mentioned in conjunction. I've don't know where Door went after she found out, but if you gave me three guesses I imagine I'd only need one."

"So she went to the Shepherds to see if her sister was alive." Richard mused aloud. It really shouldn't have been as surprising as it was. Door had been chasing every scrap of information about Ingress voraciously, on the off chance that Islington had been telling her the truth. But still. . .the Shepherds. He didn't know much about them, but he knew that Door being gone this long was bad news.

"No doubt she's fine. Probably just giving her usual speech about the Unity of London Below to a new audience." The marquis said with a dismissive air that didn't match the intensity of his dark eyes as he looked at Richard. "There's no need to go all white knight and rush off to save her just yet."

Richard flushed at the barb. The marquis seemed to think that Richard had a hero complex, and that the man wanted nothing better than to be running headlong into danger to save the damsel in distress. Which wasn't fair, things were just different when Door was concerned. She didn't have anyone to watch out for her and she needed someone at her back to help her out of the danger her recklessness got her into. "What are you doing here then? It you aren't worried about her then why are you here?" He shot back to the marquis as he began shifting on the balls of his feet impatiently. If Door was in danger, and she probably was, they were wasting time.

"I'm certainly not here for the pleasant company." The marquis replied acidly as his eyes glinted in a way that would have made Richard back down in normal circumstances. But Door was missing and with dangerous people that herded sheep so Richard really didn't give a damn if the marquis got angry. "I realize that you're worried about her. And you should be. But you also shouldn't go jumping blindly into things you don't understand."

"Then what do you propose we do? Call the police and file a missing person report?" Richard asked as he glared at the marquis. The marquis that still looked completely calm, cool, and collected.

"I suggest that you sit down and think things through before you do anything that will get you hurt. If something is wrong with Door and then you go and stupidly muddle things up even worse I don't relish the idea of having to save the both of you." The other man replied.

Richard shook his head as he pulled his overcoat off of the hook it hung from and pulled it on. "I can't sit here and wait if I think she's in trouble. You wait here if you like. I'm going to go look for her."

Before the marquis got the chance to protest, Richard was out the doorway and into the abandoned Underground tunnel that ran parallel to their little house. He began walking down the tracks toward the nearest platform, trying to work out the quickest way to get to the Underground station near where the Shepherds' barony was located. Hunter's knife was a reassuring weight in his pocket, though he knew it wouldn't do him very much good against a whole crowd of people. Still, it was better than nothing and could be enough to hold enemies off until Door opened a path for them. That is, if Door was still well enough to open a path for them. He didn't even know if she was still alive.

Lost in his worries and half-baked rescue scenarios, Richard almost didn't hear the footsteps. But the steady tapping of feet against the rails brought him back to himself and he looked up. Relief so strong it almost left him light-headed pounded through him. Door. Hair askew and eyes dull with exhaustion. Richard had been expecting her furious and sorrowful, the usual bundle of energy only with a different target. Well, in truth, Richard had been expecting to find her with glassy eyes and skin already sliding to a white past her normal pallor, but in his less morbid worries she was angry. Not with a dull frown and empty grey eyes. Door's eyes were many things and many colours; two of those things that they aren't is empty and grey.

She glanced up at him and looked at him coolly. "Where were you off to Richard?" She tried for her usual cheer but the miserable twist of her lips didn't even try to reach her eyes.

"Going to find you. I was worried. The marquis said. . ." Richard didn't bother finishing. She didn't need to know now. "The Shepherds didn't have her."

Door shook her head. "They didn't have her. Or they said they didn't. But then, they probably wouldn't tell me if they did. There's no way to tell who a Shepered really is, so she could be. . .I could have seen her, could have talked to her. . .but I'll never know. She's probably gone. Probably dead. Has been dead all along. This is useless." She said in a steady voice that did nothing to belie the despair and hopelessness every word dripped with.

Richard paused, trying to find the right words to say. Platitudes, prayers, vague comforts, the covers of every sympathy card he'd received when his friend had committed suicide flashed through his mind and he still came up empty. How could he tell Door to take a deep breath and move on when the possibility, however slim, hung over her head that her younger sister was out there somewhere? Not for the first time, Richard silently damned Islington to a slow painful death for ripping the girl in front of him apart. He would die for Door in a moment, go through hell and high water to help her, but faced with despairing eyes and a bowed head he was useless. All he could do was put his arms around her and hug her tightly.

Door was tense in his arms for a long moment, then the damn burst and she was sobbing into the shoulder of his overcoat. He kept his arms around as she cried for a long time, unable to do anything else but pat her head and murmur things that weren't words. Finally her tears subsided into sniffles and then she pulled away and smiled shakily at him as she rubbed at her eyes. She looked terrible with her reddened eyes and her nose still dripping, but her eyes had the tiniest glint of green in them now.

"Thanks." She said as she scrubbed at her nose with the cuff of her coat. "I just-I feel very alone. And hoping Ingress is out there just-makes me feel some hope. But then something like this happens, and it's even worse." She took a deep breath and visibly collected herself into the girl Richard knew. "I made a mess of your coat, you know." She pointed out with a tiny smile.

Richard shrugged. "It'll clean off. Though I know the marquis will get a few good jabs in about it." He said in the same wry tone, then sobered. "Listen, I know you know this, but you aren't alone. Not even close. I mean, I was a wreck all day because I thought that you'd gone off and got yourself in terrible trouble and I wouldn't be able to do anything to help. Even the marquis, in his usual cynical swashbuckling way, was worried about you. We care. We want you to be happy."

Door nodded. "I know that. I do. It's just hard to remember that sometimes, with everyone gone. But thank you. Really."

A long pause of awkwardness stretched between the two of them, standing too close still and unsure how to break the moment. Richard managed to ruin it quite thoroughly. "I made soup. It has lentils in it. You know how lentil soup and I get along, so it's not very good. But I didn't blow up the kitchen this time."

Door smiled. Really smiled this time, a full out grin that made her red-rimmed eyes seem out of place. "No doubt it's horrendous, but we'll feed it to the marquis first and if he doesn't die we'll assume it's edible." With a final shared smile that didn't do any good to lessen any of the grief still hanging over Door but made it just a little easier to bear, they turned around and walked home.

 


End file.
